Set Free
by Rainbows28
Summary: Everything that made me special, according to the law, was revoked by a plot to take me down. And it had, taken me down, that is, but it had not defeated me. I never left. I am back and I am sure, hell will rise at the expense of my enemies. Blood will shed. I will reign - AU. AH. OOC. Dark Themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Alright, so here is my newest story. It delves deeper into the dark side then my usually stories. It also goes into description of rape. There isn't any scenes of the actual rape, but it is a major deal in this story. So if you don't like that, please don't read or at least tread carefully.**

 **Disclaimer: I OWN nothing.**

 **This is an Elijah and Elena story, don't like don't read. There are descriptions of sex and harsh language, don't like? Don't read. See the picture? Yay! :)**

 **Otherwise, for you other wonderful freaks, delve into my funny mind . . . or crazy mind, whichever you prefer.**

 **Reviews for Chapters, let me know what you think!**

 **Happy Reading . . .**

* * *

There is a difference between being bound and being caged. When you are bound, you are immobile. There is no movement, and every single breath you take is controlled. When you are caged there is still mobility. The feeling of four walls trapping you in is more traumatic than ropes tying you down. In my opinion, anyways.

I am caged. Granted, my cage is a four point something million square foot castle, but I am caged nonetheless. Honor is something that the royal family must emanate. With every breath. Every word, every step, and every time we wake up in the morning. Honor. Nobility. Perfection. It is an expectation granted upon us at birth all because of our money and standing. A child. No older than five minutes. Hath taken no more than four measly breaths, is subjected to a millennia of expectations.

It does not matter what the first born son wants in life. He will grow up to be king. He will rule. He will subject himself and his family to the order of Royal Politics. Men and women will bow to him just as they will wish to his slice his throat, all because of who god chose as his parents.

The first born daughter will be known as a trading tool. A pawn her country can sell to another in marriage. She will be first in line to the throne, if anything should happen to the first born son. Perhaps he died in infancy or before he could take thrown. Or maybe, her mother was not lucky enough to bore a boy. That is a damnation. Should a queen not be able to birth boys who will turn into men, then she is nothing in her standing and shall be replaced.

The daughter will grow in grace and beauty, it is a must, an expectation. God forbid she have a loose tongue or a temper the size of a king's. A lady is a lady and she will act as such or punishment will ensue. I am the first born daughter to King Grayson and Queen Miranda. I was expected to grow in honor and nobility with grace and beauty shining through my features and I did, but I was no longer allowed to be used as a pawn. At ten years old that was taken from me. I was ruined. Sullied. Defiled. I was useless.

For a princess cannot be a princess if she has no virtue. No matter if it was taken by force. She was ruined. No questions asked. I am ruined. I am princess of France. I hold royal standing in all courts of Europe. I hold friends in places that not even my father could touch. I hold enemies who were terrified of me.

My younger sister Elizabeth became the pawn. Of course my mother could not have a scandal, but that did not stop the talk. I had not bled a month of cycle yet. There was no chance of pregnancy, but I was still done. Everything that made me special, according to the law, was revoked by a plot to take me down. And it had, taken me down, that is, but it had not defeated me. I never left. I am back and I am sure, hell will rise at the expense of my enemies. Blood will shed. I will reign.

•••

Flabbergasted is too soft a word to describe my feelings at the moment. Stunned? Exasperated? Yes, sure, all of those words describe my feelings at the moment, but they are too tame. I was furious, stunned, and upset. All of those overwhelming emotions seemed to boil and simmer in my gut until a large ball of something so indescribable I was sure I was seeing dots dance across my vision.

"Bonnie, are you legitimately serious?" I asked the girl, standing a few feet away from me. She looked gorgeous, as always. We stood eye to eye at our matching five feet six inch height, only about an inch separating us with the different heels we wore. Her face was stricken with grief and apology. An apology she was not required to deliver. My father owed me an apology. The man who raped me owed me more than an apology. Britain owed me an apology. The list goes on and on, but Bonnie, Queen of Scotland, is not on that list.

"Unfortunately, Elena, I am." She murmured, still looking guilty. God the girl was young. Young and forced into a world of war and greed all because of the womb she was conceived. Nine years old was the second time her life had been threatened. Second. For god's sake this girl could not catch a break. And now, she was tied to my brother. A brother who happened to have his old lover back. Anna. That brought another surge of fury into the large, ever-growing ball still simmering in my belly.

I was pacing. My arms at my sides while my fists clenched repeatedly. My head was still held high as I moved in calculated motions. "Well, then, let us pay visit to my little sister and the King of Great Britain." I lock eyes with her. We shared a look. She did not enjoy the country any more than I did. It had destroyed many of her people. Still tried. Not to mention the English were the only reasons she had a target on her head. Besides the crown of course.

We walked side by side. Two women, each with a different destiny tied to the same pole. Friends in the midst of enemies. Allies in the midst of betrayers. It was rather odd at how Bonnie and I connected. With her being sixteen and me, being six years her senior, we honestly should not have gotten along as well as we have, call us kindred spirits or something.

We entered the throne room and I saw Jenna. My little sister. The whore of the castle. She was not ruined, yet I was. She slept with anyone left and right, drank like a fish, and had a tongue as loose as a snake, yet I was the one sullied and dank. Yes, I resent her. Yes, I loathe her, but I was still princess of this castle. She was an outsider. I was pushed out without my consent. She left. In all honesty, the rage, resentment, and bitter jealousy I held for her all simmered down to one thing; pity and contempt.

"Little sister." I greeted and she cast me a side long look.

"What is with the smug smile, Elena? I heard English was entering the castle, with invitation and not just that, but a personal invitation. To King Elijah himself." She pointed out, her voice a mix between smug and false innocence. An awkward tension thickened the air in the room. Bonnie cleared her throat.

"King Grayson, when will your guests be arriving, sir?" She asked, false politeness in her tone. Not surprising. My father was an ass.

"Tomorrow morning." Grayson answered with a dismissive wave of his hand while Jeremy stepped in.

"Father, I beg that you reconsider. Might I remind you, these English did destroy the reputation of your first born." Jeremy said, his face and voice a mask, but I could literally taste the fury rolling off of him. I loved him. Unlike Jenna or Elizabeth, Jeremy held no resentment or jealousy towards me. He protected me as if he were the elder one and I was little child. After the rape, I was no longer bound by royal duties, much like my older half-brother Matt. We got close and he taught me how to hunt, ride horses, and sword fight.

I was no longer bound by tea parties or anything else that involved Royal Politics. I was free and my sisters hated me for it. That is why Jenna is so quick to act out. It is why Elizabeth was always so cold. I was not just exiled from my society, but my family as well. My brothers and parents were really the only ones that did not completely shut me away.

"Thank you, brother, but I think father knows what he is doing. Is there a treaty being formed, dad?" I asked him, his eyes slowly left Jeremy and met my own. He sat up straighter, as if preparing for a physical attack. I, however, knew his attack was emotional.

"Leave. Shut the doors." Grayson demanded to the servants and guards in the room. When they all cleared out and the echo of the banging door was slowly reverberating around the room, then there was only the inner circle. My father and mother. My father's mistress. My brothers. My sister and Bonnie.

"There could be a treaty. If we found some common ground. Elijah is not like his father or his mother-." My father did not get to finish that.

"So, he is not a psychopath sending pedophiles out to rape innocent children. What a fucking relief." My voice was bitter. I was still furious. The ball of emotion was not as big now because I knew I had at least Bonnie and Jeremy on my side, but it was still there and it was still deafening.

"Watch your language." My father was quick in that. As if on habit. I scoffed. He continued.

"As I was saying, King Elijah is tired of war. He merely wants peace and in all honesty, I have no disagreements with him. This war, in my opinion, can be avoided if we all work together. We merely need Spain in agreement. I have no idea what the treaty will entail, but this visit will be done with peace and grace. I know you hold hatred for the English, daughter and rightfully so, but this man is a king and he will be respected as such, am I clear?" He demands and I open my mouth to tell him where to shove it, but he knew me too well.

Holding up a hand, he stares me dead in the eye, "He put his parents to death, Elena, does that not say something about his viewpoint? He has brought most of his country out of poverty and now he wants to end a war. He is either the bravest man I have ever communicated with or he is extremely stupid. In all honesty, I do not think the man is without schooling. So we will respect him. You will respect him. Or so help me god, Elena, I will send you to Paris!" He had risen, his voice a loud roar around the tense and silent room.

He stood there. Looking very much like a king speaking down to his child. I did not lower my eyes. I did not get teary eyed. I kept eye contact, my chin slightly lifted. "I make no promises, father. You know me. I may call the man an ass and if he sees fit to punish me. Then so be it, I do not want your advice or your protection and I do not need. I merely want you to understand how insanely _stupid_ it is. To invite a man who rules a country responsible for the death and mayhem that reeks these lands into your home." My voice was exasperated with an icy lace tinged beneath.

He walked down the steps and I could practically see my mother holding her breath. Both of my brothers inched forward, hands on the sheath of their swords. Each of their mothers glanced at them, while our father paid no mind. "This is my castle. My country. I will not be spoken down to by a child with no standing. You will bow. You will lick the man's shoe if he wishes. If not, you will need protection, but not from him. From _me_." There was nothing about his eyes or his voice that made me to want to call his bluff.

What my father seemed to forget was that I had nothing to live for. He thought me a weak woman afraid of her own damn shadow. I was not. I never would be.

I merely smiled and nodded once. "Of course, father, and if he wishes my legs spread, he will do so himself. I have no doubt." I did not wait for a response. I turned on my heel and walked out of the throne. I had dismissed him. I had dismissed him on his own grounds. In his own castle. That was the most blatant show of disrespect, but that is okay. I did not respect him and he knew I was untouchable. I was the only thing keeping a crown on his head, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you incapable of respect?" Jenna's voice snaps me out of my reverie. She sat next to me with a huff of exasperation. Then, she reached under her skirts and I noted a garter belt. I cocked an eyebrow at the fancy lace that was both seductive and unbelievable, but that wasn't what really caught my eye. The flask she pulled out, grabbed my attention.

"You are either extremely reckless or completely insane." I said simply and she laughed delicately, putting the tiny metal rim to her lips and taking a quick swig. She held it out and I took it. I could not believe I was drinking with my sister. A woman who hated me. A woman I hated, yet we sat in a comfortable silence drinking whiskey. Was this what family did to you? Was this what the sharing of blood meant? That love was always under the hatred and burning fury? Did love charge it?

"What are you doing home, Jenna?" I sighed, relenting and closing my book in my lap. She shrugged both of her shoulders and rocked on the metal bench.

"You were raped." She said and I was a little confused as to why she wanted to point that out.

"I am not in the mood for your bitchiness, Jenna-." She cut me off.

"No, no, Elena, you were _raped_." Her eyes held so much clarity it was as if she was just finding out. Like the last decade plus two years had not occurred. I watched her carefully. Jenna was barely a child when it occurred. Barely above the age of six, but _still_. She had been told. She had been aware. Right?

"Elena, I am sorry. I had never really given it much thought. I was too young to understand and the resentment just kept building and building, because you got to do whatever you wanted and all I saw was my jealousy. Then when I was of age to know, I did not allow myself to believe it. I did not allow myself to truly accept it, because that would mean my anger and frustration towards you was built out of petty insignificant idiocy." Jenna sounded disgusted with herself and it suddenly occurred to me that she was apologizing.

Family was thicker than water. Thicker than blood. I knew I loved Jenna, even though I hated her all the same. She glanced at me, "Listen, what I am trying to say. Is that I am sorry. I am sorry for shutting you out and being such a bitch to you. I am sorry for the comment I made earlier in the throne room. If you wish to leave, we could go stay in Paris for a little while. Look, I am just sorry. For it all." Her lips were quivering. This wasn't some bullshit. This was _real_. A feeling of dread settled inside me.

I had enough life experience to know that to have an epiphany this huge something traumatic would have to have occurred. I cleared my throat and blinked the sudden tears away. "Were you raped?" I asked. Not sure if I wanted to know. Her response was not as immediate. In fact, she gave no response.

"How bad?" I asked and she inhaled shakily.

"I was so scared. Did you have that fear? I bet it was a billion times worse and I cannot think of anyone, especially my _sister_ going through that. At ten years old, no less." She sobbed and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

"What happened, Jenna?" I press, needing to know. My sister and I were in no way reconciling, but she was still my sister and I was allowed to hate her and bitch at her and even strike her, but anyone else would die by my hand if they dared hurt her.

"I did not want him. I just wanted to go to sleep. It happened about four days ago? Yeah, that sounds about right. Anyway, he tried to hike up dress, but I bit his neck. I was so close to getting away, but he got me pinned and he bound me with his knees. I could not move. I begged him to stop. I begged and I do not beg, but I just wanted him to let go!" She cried out, tears streaking her face as the sobs escaped her. I brought her head down to my shoulder. Waving away guards who rushed over. They obeyed and stepped back to a comfortable distance.

"He told me to shut up and when I did not he hit my stomach, but I still did not keep quiet. Then he said that he was ready to silence me. I thought that meant he was going to kill me, but he shoved . . . he put it in my mouth." Her breath was still coming out in sobs and gasps, but she whispered the last. She could not say it any louder. I could practically see the shame burning in her eyes.

"Jenna, where is he now?" I demand and she shrugs both of her shoulders.

"Good question." She mutters and I sigh, shutting my eyes tightly.

"Jenna, listen to me. I understand the shame and hatred that burns behind the soul. I understand the tears that can well and fall at a moment's notice. I understand the fear and apprehension whenever in the room with men, but there is one thing that you need to constantly remember. It was _not_ your fault. It does not matter if the dress was racy or if you were flirtatious or if you even offered it. You are always able to say no. He is the pig and the only one to blame. Tell me you will always remember that." I beg, tears filling own eyes. She stared at me and nodded quickly. We hugged and for the first time in my life. I felt close to a sister. I felt calm in her presence. I felt right.

•••

"Majesty." Damon greeted as I made my way through the stables.

"Damon." I greeted myself and he gave a slightly mocking yet slightly respectful bow of his head and torso, then his eyes met mine again.

"What can I do for you?" He asks.

"Well, I would like you to find a man and then I would like you to kill him. Castration preferred." I say with a simple shrug. He watches me carefully as I run my hand along the wooden stable door. Daisy, a beautiful purebred with a dark nearly black coat, stood there, the only audience to this conversation.

"I will need details, majesty. There are many men, everywhere." He said and my hand shot out, striking him across the cheek. His jaw tightened and he swallowed. His head jerked from the force of my hand before resting his eyes on mine. Before I could blink or tell him to watch himself, he grabbed my upper arms. A move that both shocked me and excited me. I was sick.

His lips met mine, hard and demanding. I opened my mouth for him, allowing his tongue to probe and prod as he sucked and licked the inside of my mouth. I sighed against him, I could fuck him, but I did not want him the way he wanted me. Forming an intimacy with this man like that, would be stupid and reckless. I was neither. So, I let the kiss go on for a few more seconds, then I pulled back.

"He wears a gold ring on his right pinky, the band is large and masculine with a red ruby center. It is a one of a kind because there are two initials within the emplacement." I trailed off on a moan as his lips suck just below the skin of my jaw. I push my pelvis into his. I was not shocked to find him hard. His erection prodded my upper thigh and again, I thought about allowing him to take me. I could be quiet, but again, I was not stupid. So, I pulled back.

"I'm not fucking you, Damon." I say and he groans against my mouth.

"Majesty." He breathes. Tempting, but not enough. I pat his cheek and push him back.

"You want a whore, go to Katherine's. Now, the initials are HM, do you understand?" I demand and he nodded once, looking annoyed.

"And what exactly do I get in return?" He asked and I nearly winced, because I did not want to ask my next question.

"Well, what do you want?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and an excitement lit his eyes.

"You. Naked. On my bed. Spread wide and wet. Waiting." He said and I would be lying if I said a soft throb did not form between my legs. I had not had sex in four years and I was feeling the effects. Perhaps, I was stupid.

"Just fuck me. Here." I say and he smirks.

"I thought I had to go to Katherine's for a whore." He commented and I did not have the chance to react before Matt appeared. I sucked in a sharp, stunned breath as he pinned Damon to the stable door. My older brother was extremely close to the older man's face. Nearly nose to nose.

"I'm a nice man, Damon, but when you are sucking face with my little sister, telling her how you want her in your bed, and then immediately calling her a whore, well, that makes me not so nice." Matt snarled. Damon's face lost color. I scoffed and shoved Matt back.

"Calm yourself, brother." I say and then turn back to Damon.

"You do this, you get what you always get. The amount and my loyalty. It is a fair trade and you know it. As for the other thing. I apologize Damon, it has been a while and I am not in my right head. Go to Katherine, tell her it is on me. Is that enough for you?" I ask and he stares at me for a moment, I could see the resignation in his eyes well before he nodded. I nodded and he cast Matt a look before turning and leaving.

"Damn, Elena, I thought you were going to let him hike up your skirts right here." He said and I turned, staring him straight in the eye.

"I was." I say simply and he sighs.

"I figured, what was all that about anyway?" He asked and I shrugged.

"I merely needed a job done." I say sweetly and he blinked.

"Something that I could not do for free?" He asked and I sighed.

"No, dear brother, you could not complete my task. Tell me you will have a nice night?" I ask and he continued to just watch me, big baby blue eyes and light blonde hair framing gorgeous aristocratic features. If the fact that we shared a father and he was my best friend, didn't completely turn me off and dry me up, I would have found him excruciatingly attractive.

"I will have one. Go have your own." He said and I smiled, pushing up and kissing his cheek.

"Love you, Matt." I promise and he nods, returning the sentiment before sending me off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Damon had not gotten back to me this morning, but I honestly did not expect him to. Katherine, however, did send me a bill. It was higher than I had wanted, but I let it pass. I stood in front of my full body length mirror, extremely satisfied with the image that met my gaze.

My dress was beautiful, yet not over the top. A silver corset top. Embedded with gems and beads in an intricate and tantalizing design. There was a slight sweetheart neckline that gave off a modest view of my cleavage. The top possessed off the shoulder sleeves. My shoulders were bear and so were half of my upper arms while the loose satin material fell beautifully down my arms and widened out with a bell sleeve.

My skirt had thin silk layers, just as silver as the top, but holding no design. It was elegant and fell to the floor like water. It also moved like water as I walked. I smiled softly. My dark chestnut hair fell to my waist in loose silky ringlets, my make-up was light, and my shoes were white with a small heel. Not visible from under my dress.

I settled my diamond tiara on the top of my head and left the room. When I got outside and walked toward the front of the castle, where the greeting for King Elijah and his entourage was being held, I felt slightly anxious and apprehensive. A part of me wanted to run very far and fast away from here, while another part was extremely giddy about meeting the man. I felt crazy altogether.

I noticed that basically the entire castle was spread out. Guards littered everywhere and the royals were at the front and center. Bonnie and her ladies off to the side, but still very much included. My mother stood in front of my father and his mistress while Matt paced slowly in anxiety and impatience.

You could hear a damn pin drop on the dirt with the silence that ran around. I moved through the crowd, people parted and I saw a carriage driving up and parking in front. I stood next to my mother, yet, slightly in front of her. She cast me glance, a small smirk pulling at the tips of her lips. I could only mimic her look. A man jumped down from the riding bench and stood straight as one carriage was opened. Revealing multiple men and a few women. All dressed in gorgeous clothes.

I took a step forward, completely bypassing my mother. She followed in suit. Yes, she was a queen and I was pushing a boundary, I just did not care. My eyes were on the carriage that had yet to be opened. I was staring directly at the window. Nothing could be seen. It was as if I were looking into the depths of hell and only finding oblivion.

When the door handle was gripped by a guard after the new court members settled, examining the area, my father stepped a foot in front of my mother and me. We both flanked him and it was a fucking statement. He may be king, but we were his queens. Not Meredith. Not Jenna. But me, ruined me, and my mother, in all her psycho glory. One hell of a team.

The door opened and woman stepped out. Rebecca. How . . . intriguing? She wasn't what I had been expecting. For one, she was pretty, not spectacular like those have mentioned. She wore a dress that I found unappealing and her hair was a blonde mess of curls tied up around her head. Her eyes were dark, soulless. A feral grin spread across my face and as she noticed, her own spread. Oh yes, this would be very fun. We had a small stare down in the court yard, and everyone noticed.

Two princesses, of great importance, yet either holding no use, staring down at each other as if they wanted to slit the other's throat and . . . we did. I was so caught up with Rebecca that I did not even take notice of the man, the motherfucking king, who stepped from his carriage. My father bent, his body arched, yet in no way near submissive as he spoke into my ear.

"Break your contact." It was not a question. It was a command and it was one I took no heed to. I did not listen. I did not look away. I grinned wider.

Apprehension shone on her face. I had a feeling she was not use to those staring her down. She was a coward and one of the worst you can come by, because she was a coward who believed herself brave. She was a liar and the worst kind you could come by, because she was a liar to herself. Oh yes, _very_ fun.

My father was furious, but he hid it well as he stepped up, closer to Elijah. They both stood, proud and tall. After Rebecca broke eye contact I trailed my gaze over to Elijah. He was staring at my father and I was suddenly sidetracked by the pure beauty of him. He was tall, if not six and a half feet, rippling with barely constrained muscle and pure strength. He was a force. He was the very essence of a king. He was more than a king, though, because my father was a king, but he, in no way, compared, because king was too small a word to describe Elijah. No, the man was a god.

My mother pursed her lips. I glanced to the side, "Are we all having staring contests? Because if we are, I say we put a wager to it. You know, a little money." I made a money motion with my hand and my grin broadened at the muffled snickers that erupted. Both of the men, the god and the earthly king turned to stare at me. I smiled and shrugged, completely unaffected.

"I would win too." I announce and Elijah cocked a perfectly sculpted brown eyebrow.

"Is that so, princess . . .?" His English accent was thicker than my own. Well, obviously, but his practically purred. It was unfair. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to find him hideous, instead I was imagining him naked.

He left the question open and I realized that he was asking for my name or if 'princess' was my title. Perhaps both. I just stared at him. Not answering. I could see the flash of shock across his brown eyes before he immediately covered it.

"King Elijah, welcome to France." My father announced, breaking our eye contact. I cast my gaze to the ground, but kept my head high.

"King Grayson, it's a pleasure. Beautiful country you have here." Elijah commented and I nearly snorted. I cleared my throat and both men looked at me again.

"Elena, go." My father demanded and I stared at him for a moment, then I felt Stefan come behind me. I was going to stab him with his own sword if he dare touch me. And he did touch me. Bastard. He gripped my arm. My mother tensed and I turned, placing my lips at Stefan's ear.

"You are scared of your king. Smart man, but the thing is, a king's anger is nothing compared to the wrath a princess can unleash. I think you know this, Stefan." I purred into his ear and his grip loosened, slightly, but it was enough. I slipped from his grasp and started toward my father. I could feel the guards spread out around, I swear, if he caused a scene; I would kill him.

My glare must have confessed my anger and intentions, because amusement flashed my father's eyes. He always was a smug son of a bitch. I smiled sweetly, "Oh my dearest apologies, father. Welcome, your majesty." I gave a slight curtsy with a mocking hint to it without stilling my pace. I walked past them and past Rebecca.

"Welcome to France, princess." I say, while passing her. She turns elegantly on her heel and walks next to me.

"The pleasure is all mine, princess." She returned and while Elijah and my father called our names. Neither of us stopped. We continued down the path until we were out of eye and ear shot. I noticed four guards flanking us. They held back, slightly. One set of guards bore the coat of the English and the other of the French.

We were each equally matched. We stilled and the guards kept out of ear shot. She was a bastard and I was ruined. Both girls in a position of power with absolutely no voice unless we created our own and we had. We had allies in those that are families had enemies in. The allies of our families were partly enemy to us. We were one in the same. Except, I had a soul. She didn't.

"You are far more gorgeous than any rumor, Elena." She said and I nearly laughed.

"Beauty emanates from you, Rebecca." I could also see her holding in a laugh.

"Yes." She agreed. What a bitch. We both smiled kindly at one another.

"You have this castle under your thumb. I find it refreshing. I would have been beheaded if I had acted the way you had back there in my own home." She commented dryly and I just stared.

"What can I say, Rebecca? When a woman has nothing to live for, she lives the most." I confess and she nods.

"I agree." Her eyes scanned the castle grounds. An appreciation as she looks them over. Inquires them. Studies them. Judges them. I wanted to slap her. This was my home, she had no right to give it an inquisition.

"I heard a ball was being thrown tonight, how kind of you father." Her voice was near robotic, practiced; and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes.

"Oh yes, King Grayson of France is just a motherfucking saint." My own voice was dry and she let loose a snicker.

"My, my, my, the rumors of your tongue were not in any way told out of context. In fact, a few might have been a little bland. You have the tongue of a snake, princess." She said it, as if it were a compliment. As if she respected it, because she did.


	4. Chapter 4

No one took notice of my entrance to the main hall. I stood mainly in the back, but I wanted to move forward. My father did not sit in his throne, but my mother did. My brothers stood behind my father along with Jenna next to Matt and Bonnie next to Jeremy. I didn't pay much attention to the pleasantries exchanged between my father and Elijah.

I was more intrigued in ogling the god. Tall, definitely a head taller than me and he held a few inches on every man in the room. He towered, with broad shoulders and a massive chest. Standing on long powerful legs encased in black material. His hair was silky and light brown, shaggy yet professional. Full lips, strong jaw with a five o'clock shadow that made him terrifyingly beautiful. A golden complexion, clean and strong, but it was his eyes.

They were brown, a brilliant striking hazelnut that didn't look real or human. They looked alive with wisdom and power, rolling like stormy depths that you could get lost in. He was magnificent and I felt small.

I knew I was gorgeous. I was a royal, it was _expected_ , but this man, this god, this king, he made me feel ugly. Not enough, plain. I shifted my weight, feeling very heavy at the moment. " . . . Correct, Elena?" My father finished, snapping me out of my depressing thoughts and back into reality.

"Father?" I asked, not quite remembering what he was speaking about. Actually I just did not know because I was too busy drooling.

"You will show our guests to their rooms? Right?" It was a dare. Do it. Do not do it. He was daring me and I was being stupid. With a completely fake and plastered smile, I clasp my hands in front of me and nod.

"It would be a delight, father." I say, sweetly. Elijah glanced at my father before back over at me.

"It would be." Grayson agreed.

"The west wing?" I asked, my voice just as tight as his and just as sweet.

"Yes, daughter." He confirmed. His hand clasps around Elijah's shoulder.

"Elijah, you and your company can settle in while dinner is prepared and then we can meet for discussion in regards to King Thomas of Spain, yes?" My father asked and Elijah nodded.

"Elijah." I repeated and all eyes snap to me.

"You are on a first name basis with the King of England . . . how convenient." It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Damn, maybe Jeremy was right and I should just have my tongue removed.

"Yes." My father said nothing else, his hand extended.

"Please, lead the way." He motioned and I turned, starting forward.

"You are good at that." My father commented, snidely, because he could not fucking help himself. I was not letting him get the last word.

"I get it from my father." I throw back at him over my shoulder as I continue from the great hall, a group following.

Once it was just me, my father, and Elijah. We all stilled in front of his double doors. Shocking.

Just before I could leave, my father spoke, "Now, King Elijah, if you need anything and I do mean anything, just ask Elena." Grayson stepped away from him and my lips parted as I stilled, slightly angled away from them. My father started back down the hall, but in the end he said over his shoulder.

"Even if it is just for her to spread her legs." He walked calmly away then and my vision turned black. White hot rage boiled within my blood stream. It caused me to start shaking as a low growl rumbled in my throat. I spun on him.

"You son of a fucking bitch. This is your fault and I will not spread my legs for you, _ever_. So, if you need something and god forbid the _wonderful King Elijah_ be denied anything, flash your smile. I am sure whatever maid you are given will drop to her knees and deep throat your cock, but I am not that maid." I spin on my heel and start away, but a large strong hand wrapped around my upper bicep and pulled me back, pushing me into in the wall.

I gasped in a sharp breath and my hand slammed out, colliding with his smooth cheek. The sound rebounded and bounced off the walls. His head barely jerked and that pissed me off. He was staring down at me. His head still held high, but his lashes lowered. They were long lashes, thick and black, framing the chips of chocolate he called eyes.

"Contrary to whatever popular belief you have of me, love, I am not a pig and I do not command a woman to spread her legs. I do not even need to ask her. She is usually a more than willing participant." He said and there was no doubt in my mind about that.

"How _sweet_ , but the only way you Englishmen will get me to spread my legs, is if you pry them open, _again_." I shoved his chest, he did not budge.

"Move." I demand and he did not move. He just watched me. His tongue darted to wet his lips and he took a step back. His spine was straight and his head was held high, but his eyes were lowered to the ground. It was a move I had made a few times in my life. One when I needed to apologize, but would not dare show any amount of weakness. My standing did not allow that and his sure as hell did not.

His eyes lifted and met mine. "Elena." I cut him off.

"My name is Princess. Family and friends call me Elena, you are neither." I inform him and he just stares at me, for a long moment.

"Princess, I know it does not mean much, but I want to apologize for the actions of the rulers before me. I assure you, under my rule that has never and will never occur to anyone. The man who raped you is dead. By my hand." He confessed, shocking the living hell out of me. Can a person die from shock? Because I think I just did.

"He is dead." I breathed, but I was not technically talking to him. I was just repeating because I thought he was somewhere with a wife and children, living a wondrous life. Free. I was wrong. He was dead. I blinked away the tears, but they fell and I felt small again.

"I am fully aware that your reputation is in shatters. Destroyed. Gone. And I want to issue a formal pardon, a confession with England taking full credit for the loss of your virtue." He was saying words and they made sense, I just did not get them. He wanted to issue a formal pardon. That would basically be saying that the rape never occurred. It would basically be saying that I was still pure.

I opened my mouth, then shut it because I had no words. None, but I did. "No." I say and he blinked, because yeah. A formal pardon was not a small thing. It was a huge, epic surrender and I was saying no. I still could not even wrap my mind around it.

"I have had sex in the time between then and now. Consensual and frankly, if you give a formal pardon those men will come back and want a marriage. I will be labeled a bigger whore than I already am. I like my life and I do not want it to change. Your offer is very humbling and extremely considerate, but I must decline. I do not want it. You are a little too late there, your majesty." I gave a slight bow of my head before bypassing him and walking away.

•••

Three weeks. They have been here for three weeks and not even Jeremy knows what they are discussing. I was walking around when an out-of-breath guard came running over. I blinked, "Princess, your father seeks you urgently." He pants and I move, walking quickly toward the meeting room.

I walked through the French doors, council, my parents, Elijah, Rebecca, Bonnie, and my siblings were in here. I blinked again. A sinking feeling filled my chest. Oh I did not like this.

"Father? You called?" I asked and he stared at me.

"Yes. We have reached a decision." He informed me and I also took notice of Spain's Queen Esmeralda holding her two year old son, Jack. I glance to the side.

"How nice, father, that is, that is great. What exactly does that have to do with me?" I ask, not looking in the least bit amused. I did not like where this was going. In fact, it was scaring me.

"We are bounding our countries by marriage. The child brought forth, the first born daughter, will marry Jack, Prince of Spain when she is of age." He said, but he was not making any sense.

"England and France will unite in the unity of marriage and the first born daughter brought forth by that marriage will one day marry Jack, binding our three countries." Okay, that made more sense. I felt my stomach coil and my insides tense.

"Okay." I whispered, my brothers were watching me, carefully. Oh god, no . . .

"You will marry Elijah." Not a question. Not a suggestion. A full blown command. _You will marry Elijah_.

Simple. To the point. Black spots danced around my vision and I collapsed. Yep, that is me. Falling onto my side while Jeremy and Matt rush to me. My mouth was open and my body was not functioning. I could not breathe. At all.

"Elena." Jeremy's voice sounded far off and hazy as if he'd yelled it through water.

"Elena." Matt's voice came in a little clearer, but I was still lost. My father was marrying me off to a country responsible for my rape. I would live in the castle of the people who organized it. I would sit in the throne of the woman who orchestrated it all. I would sleep with their son. I was wrong. Being ruined was not a damnation. This, _this_ was a damnation.

"I told you she would not take it well." My mother commented, fury lacing her tone, moving to kneel next to me.

"Elena." She whispered gently against my ear.

"You must. This is what being a royal means. Sacrifice. You agreeing to this will allow men to go home to their children and wives. Peace will reign in all corners of Europe. No more bloodshed. No more war. Daughter, please." Her voice was barely over a whisper.

"Jenna." I mumble and she shook her head.

"Too young." She murmured back and I searched the ground. I would beg. I would kneel. I was not going to marry him. I was lying to myself. I would not beg. I would never kneel. I was going to marry him, because it would set peace in motion. This country would not be slaughtering its people. My life is nothing compared to the thousands upon thousands of others. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill something, I did not do any of those things. I sat up and stood.

I faced my father, "What if I cannot conceive?" I demand, because that was the question, was it not? My mother had more than enough problems conceiving. It took her ten years after her marriage to conceive me and even longer to achieve Jeremy.

"An annulment? Because if I cannot conceive, then England has no heir and the treaty is void." I say simply and they all stare at me, as if they had not even fucking realized that.

"Quick question, gentle-fucking-men." I growl.

"You all are sitting in here, peacefully, none of you looking ready to cut the other, yet you need to shove me into a marriage on the basis of something that might not even occur. Why not just call a truce? Huh? Why continue the wars? You are _kings_ , for god's sake, just end it. Agree, right now, over fucking wine, to end the goddamn bloodshed!" I scream and everyone but the three kings flinched.

"The people. Our people are harder to control than that, majesty." Thomas said, his voice soft and calm.

"They need something to cling to. The promise of a child and the happiness of a marriage will bring that satisfaction. During this time, we will look for an alternative, but right now. All we have is this." Thomas finished, having not changed his facial expression or his posture during the entire explanation. He was a handsome man. Truthfully, but he was weird. My face must have said just that because the corners of his lips twitched up.

"When is the wedding?" I asked, no, I demanded.

"Tomorrow night." My father said and I barked out a laugh because truly, this was _insane_. I turn to him. To Elijah.

"You want a whore for a wife? A woman that has been ruined for over a decade? I am not exactly a pushover, Elijah." I coo and he watches me, unaffected.

"You do have a sharp tongue." He agreed and I nod.

"Yes and I will not listen to you. I will not bow to your whim. You could threaten my life and I still would not do it." I inform him and he cocks his head to the side.

"Not even to save your life?" He asked and I shook my head.

"You are not afraid to die?" He asked, incredulous and I shook my head again.

"No, I am not. You do not fear dying if you have nothing to lose and I have nothing to lose." I inform him, dying scared me about as much as breathing. I would not blink twice. Elijah did not respond.

"Oh joy, I will send out invitations." My father commented.

"Will I live in England?" I ask and my father glances at me.

"No, you will be a consort. Elijah will return every month to, you know." My father said giving me a look.

"Fuck me into impregnation? Oh my god, I am going to have a monthly appointment, a literal schedule as to when I should sleep with my husband. Well, is this not just romantic?" I scoff and turn on my heel walking out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

I did not leave my own room. I wallowed in self-pity and drunk my ass off. I got over my hangover in the morning and throughout the afternoon. Keeping my door locked and not answering it for anyone, even those who knocked multiple times. I did not want this. I could not. I just could not.

It was around one when the door was banged on. I did not move and then I heard the twisting of keys. Damn it. My father appeared in the doorway with three maids and Bonnie. "They will help you get ready." Grayson said, spinning on his heel and walking away.

Bonnie helped me out of my current dress and I did not look at the wedding dress. My bath was numb and I do not remember it. I do not remember being placed in the dress. I do not remember the make-up or my hair being placed in soft loose ringlets down my back. I do not really remember the veil being placed just behind my crown. The end result was pure beauty though. I was beautiful. They did a great job.

Tears brimmed and nearly spilled, but I wasn't going to mess up my make-up. I swallowed, thickly and glanced to the side at Bonnie. She smiled kindly, "You look gorgeous." She whispered and I stared at her. My nostrils flared with the restraint of tears.

"Bonnie." I whispered.

"From the time I was ten, my life was in my own hands. I had the luxury of knowing that I could one day marry for love. I could move to one of the houses scattered around France and have little kids, live in love and I was so excited for that. Excited for the day that would come and I did not have to spend another moment in this cage. This hell and I know you do not get that luxury, but having the rug pulled out from under you. It feels almost worse." I whisper, a tear falling down my cheek.

She wiped it and kissed my cheek, "We will get through this. Together." She promised and I nodded.

"Your father will walk you down the aisle." She informed me and we left my room. I nod slowly, carefully. The next couple of hours were dizzy and I do not remember them. I think I walked down the aisle. I think I said my vows and now I'm just standing here while the preacher wraps it up the words.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Snapping me out of everything and I just stared. Elijah bent and I tilted my head, just so, it was unnoticeable to anyone else, but he got it. His lips captured the side of my mouth and a shudder rolled down my spine and settled between my legs, an aching throb formed, shocking the hell out of me.

He pulls back, taking the soft velvet of his lips with him. Applause ran around, women were crying, and men were whistling. We both turned and faced the crowd.

"Long live the King!"

"Long live the Queen!

"England!"

Shouts ran around and I nearly fainted again. Elijah kept a secure arm around my waist as he smiled and led me down the aisle. The reception room was large, filling with people, laughter, drinks, and just a good old time. It was a party. I wish I wanted to enjoy it.

I sat down and Elijah sat next to me. I shifted in my seat and Elijah cleared his throat, "You look beautiful." He said, eyes on the table and I glanced at him. It suddenly hit me.

"Oh god." I whispered and his gaze snapped to mine.

"Are you in love with someone else? I mean, of course you are. It does not matter, it is just, if you are going to take a mistress, could you wait until I'm pregnant or something, please? I mean, just until we have the girl and the boy. And when you do could I maybe, also have free reign into other relationships? Could we work something like that out, like kids and then I come back here and we live separate lives?" I was rambling and he was just staring at me.

"No." He said and my spine straightened. He leaned forward and I tensed more, if that were possible.

"I am not in love with anyone. I have never been in love, actually. I also do not plan on taking a mistress. I plan on trying to make this work, you never know, you could actually like me. My father had many mistresses and so did my mother, I do not plan on having a relationship like that. We can start out as being friends and when we conceive and after a year you still don't want to be with me, than you can come back here and we can live separate lives." This man had the ability to completely stun me.

I stood up, "I like dancing." I say to him and he immediately stood as well. He held my hand calmly and started toward the floor. He turned me and pulled me into him with grace.

"You are good." I mumble and I could feel him smile as one of his hands curve around my waist and the other held my hand.

"You are big." I whisper and he hums.

"Bigger than you." He agreed and I nodded.

"What is your favorite color?" I ask, suddenly wanting to get to know the man I married.

"Green." He answered without hesitation.

"And yours?" He asked.

"Blue." I answer, without hesitation.

"Well, actually, blue, purple, gold, green, and orange." I rest my chin against the front of shoulder. The tip of my head reached his chin, so my mouth was basically smothered in his scent. Oh god, he smelled like autumn. Like crisp fresh autumn air. It was intoxicating.

"You like the color orange? Like my sister's dresses?" He asks, disbelief clear in his voice and I giggle, actually giggle. _Me_.

"No, I like the color orange at sunset. You know, just as the sky turns from day into night and right before the sun disappears. I like that kind of orange." I say simply and he was staring down at me with those long lashes.

"I like that kind of orange too." He confessed and I nodded, swallowing hard as we moved around the dance floor. Lost in the sway of the music. He turned me and even dipped me a few times. It was fun.

Matt cut in and Elijah nodded, politely and walked over to Jenna. She glanced up and a blush formed on her cheeks, surprising the hell out of me, but she agreed to dance with him. Matt pulled me carefully against him.

"Jeremy, father, and I will be in the consummation room." He said and my entire body stilled, Matt had to basically lift me from the ground.

"As will Thomas. Bonnie, her ladies, and the Queen of Spain." He was warning me and I was going to lose consciousness. I stepped away from the dance and walked across the room toward my father.

"Please, dear god, please, have just Bonnie pay witness from behind the screen. I beg of you." I plead, he was eating strawberries, currently chewing and smiling at the festivities as if I was not breaking inside.

"This is a royal consummation. The more witnesses the better. You know this. We will not intervene, Elena and all we are looking for is you . . . well him inside you, that is all." He said and I gagged, gripping the banister. My father moved, shielding me from view.

I dry heaved again. "Are you in need of a bathroom?" He demanded and I turned my attention.

"I have had sex consensually once and I was eighteen. It was sloppy and gross, he was nineteen and severely inexperienced. I found no pleasure, I just did it to do it. And now I am going to be bedding a man and _you_ want to violate that with my brothers? Have I not been violated enough?" I demand and then he was in my face.

"I am so sick of you using your rape as an excuse for your misgivings. This is what being a royal means. So-." I cut him off because I am appalled.

"He took my virginity in every place a girl can have a virginity." I snarl in his face and he stills, mouth still slightly open.

"You know what that means, right daddy? The man raped me in my cunt and my ass, back to back. He did it like a game, counting the few strokes he had in my vagina before moving to my asshole. In the dead of night I can still feel his hands on me. I can still feel the blood soaking my lower body and I can still feel the stinging pain. I do not want to talk about my rape." I snarled.

"I do not use it as an excuse, but this is me having sex with an Englishman and not just that, but having sex with the man whose parents orchestrated it and I do not want my father or brothers in the fucking room while it is happening!" I was screaming by the end. The music had stopped and my father was doing his best to look like he was not in the need of a bucket to throw up in.

I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room. I felt Bonnie following and heard her calling my name. I was not listening. I moved toward my bedroom and Bonnie entered with Amber, Rachel, and Caroline. I shimmied out of my wedding dress and under garments, standing naked. I turned and cocked an eyebrow while the girls just stand there.

"Your father and brothers?" Caroline whispered and I smile at her.

"I am surprised they did not insist on Jenna and my mother." I say wrapping a simple grey robe around my body and tying it around my waist. I remove my make-up and tiara as I run a hand through my hair. I turn to them.

"And you guys will be there too." I say, they all stare at me.

"I am sorry." Rachel says and I shrug, rolling my eyes.

"It is alright. I am not mad at you." I say simply.

"Elena." Bonnie whispers, looking extremely uncomfortable. I shrug both of my shoulders.

"I am a royal, a queen. I suppose it is about time that I start keeping my head high and tongue between my teeth. Bonnie, you will come and get me when it is time for the consummation?" I ask and she nods quickly, they all turn and leave. Except Amber. She sits next to me and I look at her, blinking.

"Your father is an ass." She tells me what I already know.

"Yet, you go to bed with him." I say and she shrugs.

"I love him." She confesses and I smile softly.

"No, you don't. You can't love someone who doesn't love you. True love is a two way street and Amber, I am not saying that you are unlovable, I am saying he is incapable of the emotion. He sold both of his daughters, he cheats on his wife _and_ mistress. He favors his bastard son and treats Jeremy like some pawn. He cares about one person and one person alone; himself. You are setting yourself up for heartbreak." We stare at each other for a long time and then she speaks.

"I am sorry that you have to go through this. Honest, but you never know, Elijah could be your true love. Do they not say it comes in the most unlikely of places? He would be completely unlikely." She says with a soft smile and I just stare at her, before looking into the mirror. She gets up and excuses herself. My eyes mist over, turning the emerald green into a glossy bright shade that makes the color nearly hard to look at.

Bonnie came in some time later and I walked with her through the empty halls. When we reached the room, I nearly vomited. My brothers and father, Bonnie and her ladies along with the King and Queen of Spain. My jaw tightened and my eyes slid around the room, I found Elijah, leaning against a pillar, his eyes focused on somewhere outside.

I bit my bottom lip and glanced to the side. I was not fucking insinuating anything. At all. No way, we could all just stand there like a bunch of freaks. I was not moving. He brought a glass of some type of alcohol to his lips, but did not look away from whatever it was he was staring at. I shared a glance with Bonnie. My father and Thomas were becoming impatient. I knew that I needed to move, but I was not going to.


	6. Chapter 6

"Get out." His voice stunned me and I flinched. I blinked and pointed to myself.

"Um, you kind of need me in the process." I remind him and he says nothing, then his eyes land on Grayson.

"If you think I'm going to make love to your daughter in front of you or your sons, you are psychotic." He says, his face and voice blank. I shifted my weight. Um . . . _make love_? I do not think we were there yet. I did not voice this opinion, though.

Jeremy and Matt looked ready to bolt. My father opened his mouth to say something, most likely some bullshit about honor and duty. "The moment your daughter said I do, she belonged to me. To England and none of you are English. The witness, by law, is required to belong to the home country and her home country, by marriage, is England. So. Get out." His voice was perfectly restrained, but I could see the twinge of murderous rage behind those chocolate depths.

Jeremy and Matt both bolted, each giving me a kiss on separate cheeks. Bonnie moved giving me an apologetic and relieved glance, her ladies followed in suit. Thomas and his wife looked impressed as they both exited. My father and Elijah stared each other down.

"You do need a witness, for the basic parts." My father said and then the door opened and I looked back, there was a man. His face and eyes were closed off, no emotion. He wore the English seal. My father inhaled and left the room.

"Behind the screen Marcel, when the act is complete you leave immediately." Elijah says and I watch as the guard shuts the door. We were alone. I glanced around, but I did not see an opening for a screen. I shifted my weight.

"A-are we alone?" I stutter and he was quiet for a while.

"The screen is hidden and no sound can enter the small room. Marcel is my personal guard. Good man. Honorable. He will not look at you twice, in fact, he is probably sleeping." He informs me and my lips twitch. He continued to look out the window and drink his alcohol. I shifted my weight again.

"I do not like the taste of bourbon." I mumbled and he was silent.

"Well, that is just peachy." He said, voice flat. I glared.

"Hey, I do not want to do this either, buddy!" I yell at him and he spins, his glass slamming into the wall with a quick firm flick of his wrist. I stare at the mess while he walks toward me.

He grabs my shoulders and pushes me back against the wall. "Either is not needed, because I _want_ to do this. I think you are gorgeous, perfect, with your fucking wit and quick comebacks, it is annoying as all hell, but believe me it makes me harder than I have ever been. In fact, I do not think I have ever wanted a woman as much as I want you." Then he pushed away from me and ran his hands through his hair. He walked over and poured a glass of water, then he chugged it. Removing the taste of bourbon from his mouth. My throat burned as I swallowed in the realization that he did that for my benefit.

"So tell me, what can you not do in bed?" He asked and I blinked at him, shaking my head, lips parted because I did not know what that meant. He grunted.

"I like control, Elena. I like it a lot actually. I like pinning a woman to the bed. I like controlling her orgasm. I like telling her when she can and cannot orgasm. I like a good hard fucking and I need to know what you can and cannot do in bed right now." He said, hands on his hips as he stared at me. My mouth opened and closed. He was a very sexual man, I could see that now.

"You are going to need a mistress, then." I whisper, because frankly, what he just said caused a strange tingling sensation, a tightening in my lower stomach as wetness pooled between my thighs and I had to clench them against the dull throb. And that was _not_ okay, in my book.

"I do not want a motherfucking mistress, now fucking tell me." He snapped and I swallowed.

"Do not pin my wrists above my head or behind my back. Do not bound my arms at my sides. Do not hit me during the act. Do not whisper in my ear. Do not take me from behind. Try not to touch me." I whisper and he was staring at me.

"I can do all but the last." He confessed and I stared at him.

"For now." He finished and I lunged backwards, he did not even blink, just followed me.

"Listen to me. I will never, ever take you by force. Even if I am so very angry with you. You will never, ever feel anything other than pleasure with me and if you feel anything other than pleasure, all you must do is say stop or no and then shit stops, because that is how it works. Pinning your wrists above your head, taking you from behind and whispering in your ear. I will not do that tonight, but it is definitely something we will work on." He said and I glare.

"Never." I say and he shrugs both of his shoulders.

"Okay." He was lying. I was staring at him.

"Can I not just lie on my back and you know, spread my legs. You slip in, come and then we'll call it a night?" I asked and he had stilled with the strings on his shirt. He looked up at me, lips pressed together and eyebrows squinted in pure astonishment.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not. Jesus Christ, Elena. Fine, you want to talk about this? We will talk; I did not even live in England when my parents advised this plan. As soon as I took reign do you want to know what I did? I called that monster in. I tied him up and I had him raped." He said and tears pooled and fell over onto my cheeks.

"I had him beaten and raped and he begged for death, before I slit his throat." He said it with absolutely no emotion. Tears continued to fall down my cheeks. Two at a time, my lips quivered uncontrollably as my body shook.

"I cannot help what my parents did and I cannot change it, I wish to god I could, but I cannot. You need to get over this thing where you do not trust me. If it is about not trusting men? I got that, I can work with that, but if you blame me for what happened to you, than this thing is already shot to hell and I will annual this marriage right now and marry Jenna if need be, because I will not bring a child into that and I will not subject you to that." He said and I stare at him, but body racking with uncontrollable conflicted emotions.

"Can I use your bathroom?" I mumble and he turns away from me, motioning to the door across the room. I go quickly and close the door behind me. After a few, silent, body racking screams I take in deep heavy breaths, before standing. My body continued to shake and convulse as I wiped my tears. I washed my face and removed my robes before cracking my neck and back. The kinks release with multiple pops. I take in deep calming breaths. Then, I pull my robe back on and turned toward the door.

After taking several deep intakes of breath I walk back into the room only to see him sitting on the leather chair. His shirt was open and his chest exposed as he leaned back, long legs outspread. His eyes were closed, but I move toward him. I licked my lips and moved over him, settling my knees on the outside of his thighs. He doesn't open his eyes and a part of me would have thought him asleep if it weren't for the hitch in his breath.

I smiled softly. I placed both of my hands on either side of his neck and placed my lips carefully against his temple. "I am sorry, about my outburst earlier. It was inexcusable and I should have been more sensitive to your feelings. This affects you as much as it affects me. So, I am sorry." I whisper and he opens his eyes turning his attention to me. He was staring up at me, head tilted back while I straddled him with my hands on his neck.

His hands slowly run up the smooth skin of my leg, from my knee and up my thigh, bringing the robe with it until it bunched around my waist. I whimpered, squirming slightly as he ran his fingers gently down my skin and brought them to the front of my stomach, they were feather soft and as soon as they ran across a sensitive part of my front, I burst into laughter. It just exploded from me and I could not help it.

He stilled and then he squinted at me. My face flushed as I bit my bottom lip, "Sorry." I giggle and he does it again, sending me into another laughing fit until he was doing it again and again. I was gasping and squealing as he fell on top of me on the ground.

"Stop, please!" I laugh, head thrown back, mouth hurting from smiling and his hands slid away from my skin to either side of my hips. I gasp for breath as I clutch to his shoulders, trying to calm down. Then he groans with pure agony. I blink pulling back and staring at him, searching his face.

"What?" I whisper and he shrugs.

"You were just panting in my ear and clutching your soft tight body to my own." He shrugged as if it was simple.

"And that was bad?" I asked, wanting to squirm away from him, but he gripped my hands and laced our fingers pinning them above my head and settling himself completely on top of me. His erection was placed directly between my legs and I cry out in shocked arousal.

"No." He snarls, rocking his hips. I bite my bottom lip as soon as he rubs against a spot that sent a clenching of unimaginable pleasure through my core.

"Elijah." I whimper and he nuzzles my neck.

"Majesty." He murmurs and I swallow.

"Elena. You are my husband, it is Elena. We are family." I whisper, shocking myself in my own words. He stills and stares directly at my neck, before moving his lips along my jaw and stilling right next to my mouth.

"Elena." He purrs and I bite my bottom lip.

I turn my head, crushing my lips to his. I stunned him for a moment and then he groans, opening his mouth to me. He tasted good, fresh and a little spicy. But really, really hot. We sit up, him on his knees and me on my butt as I continue to grip his neck while he shoves my robe off my shoulders. He pulls back and places sweet pecks on my lips, slowing it down, and I realized he was trying to reign in some control . . . for me.

He pulled back and slowly opened his eyes, trailing them down my naked body. I felt my nipples tighten under his gaze and he moves forward, teasing his tongue along the puckered point before sucking it into his mouth. I gasp in a sharp breath, arching as my hands flew up to his hair gripping and tugging closer. He pulls his mouth away and I make a noise of dissatisfaction. He snorts and I glare, but then his hand slips under my knees with one arm around my neck as he lifts me up. I gasp, hands grasping his neck as he falls back and I end up straddling him.

"Not fair. I am naked, but you are still clothed." I mumble, shoving the shirt down his shoulders, or at least trying to. I glare at the fabric, frowning at it and it takes me a moment to realize that he has stopped moving. I blink and pull my gaze up from his difficult shirt to look up at him. He was staring down at me with an emotion I could not decipher. Perhaps it was . . . adoration.

"Baby, I need my arms to actually remove my shirt and my arms are filled with you. Be patient." He cooed and I glared at him. He merely smirked before tossing me onto the bed and by tossing I mean literally tossing. I was airborne and then I was bouncing. I burst into squeaks as he laughed, taking off his shirt.

"That was not funny, I jiggle." I mutter and he rolls his eyes.

"Oh yeah, baby, all breasts do that." He says with an innocent nod and I roll onto my side, punching him in the stomach. My mouth drops.

"EEEEK!" I squeak in pain, before releasing a laughing sob.

"Son of a – you are no longer in need of a work out!" I exclaim and he continues to just watch me. Seriously, the man was cut to perfection, tight abdomen muscles that ripple as he merely breathed. Firm masculine breasts with rusty smooth pecs. I stare at him. In all my life I have never, ever seen a man like this.

He undoes his pants and pushes them down, his erection springing free. There was no shame nor modesty in his body. Not a single cell. He ruffled his shaggy hair while I stared at his cock. It was big . . . like long and thick. Were men supposed to even be that thick or long? "You are hung like a horse." I mutter and he blinks a few times.

He was trying not to laugh and he was really bad at it. For one, he had to bite his bottom lip and that caused his mouth to quiver and his face to turn a beet red while large chocolate brown eyes held shining unconcealed humor. "That is not an insult." He chokes out and I stare up at him, resting on my elbows.

"I know. You're not a king." I whisper and he looked offended.

"Yes, Elena, I am a king. I have a throne. I control an army. I own a country. I. Am. King." He says and I merely stare up at him before shaking my head again.

"No, I knew it the first moment I saw you. You are not a king, that is too small a word . . . You are a fucking _god_ . . . and it's not going to fit inside me." I say, pointing to his massive erection.

"I'm tiny, it will not fit, nope." I say shaking my head, I licked my lips because I wanted to taste it. Badly. Did I not, you know, like really hate him ninety minutes ago? _Yeah, that was before he basically told your dad to shove it and convinced you that he wasn't only a good leader, but a good man._ A small voice in the back of my mind reminded me. God, I was so fucked. No pun intended.


	7. Chapter 7

"Did you just call me a god?" Elijah asked and I blinked, looking up at him. Was he not listening? I just told him his huge cock was not going to fit inside of me and he wanted to talk about that?

"Yes." I say.

"You think king is too small a word to describe me?" He asked. I sigh.

"Yes, Elijah. Now, can we discuss the issue of the fact that the large member between your legs will not fit between mine, please?" I ask and I was just about to also tell him to pull his head out of his ass, but he was suddenly on top of me. Rolling over and settling his hardness against my softness. I whimpered, my arms immediately going around his neck.

His warmth, his weight, and his muscles felt heavenly right on top of me. "First of all, it will fit, it will. I will not hurt you, I swear and secondly, I think we need to discuss this whole god thing." He said simply and I grumble, rolling my eyes.

"Fine, you were standing in front of my father and you guys were like, oh I do not know, standing the same way and I just noticed the major differences between the two of you. He looked like a mortal king ready to reign war and you looked like a god ready to raise hell. It was just such a sharp contrast, and I couldn't think of anything else to describe it." I confess and he continues to just stare down at me.

He fell onto his side, one of his legs between mine. I frown and turn onto my side. The intimacy of our embrace was not lost on me, but I was not really paying attention to it right then. "What?" I asked and his fingertips brush a few strands of hair from my face and behind my hair, lingering.

"Nothing, it is just. The first time I saw you, you were flanking your father on the right side while glaring very real daggers at my sister, but you were smiling. You were daring her to disrespect you and I thought, 'an angel among mortals.' No lie." He said with sincerity in his gaze.

I hum, "An angel with a god, what a coincidence." I joke softly with a lazy roll of my eyes and a smile.

"Who did you imagine your husband would be? What kind of man was he?" He asked, shocking me, did he really want to know? I mean we were both naked in bed together with some soldier watching somewhere. I worry my bottom lip. He is just being nice, kind, and giving an effort. He doesn't actually feel anything but lust for me, but I wanted to tell him, badly.

"He would be strong, a farmer, if I am being honest. He liked the outdoors, he liked to hunt, and protect. He would love me and only me, never needing a mistress and he would take me far, far away from here. I did not care if it was a castle or a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere. He just had to love me and of course want a lot of kids. Like, a lot. I want a lot of kids, just saying." I say, and when I met his eyes he was watching me.

"Why so keen on leaving this place?" he asks placing a hand behind his head and I shrug both of my shoulders.

"It feels like cage." I inform him honestly.

"It is a very big and bright, open cage, but a cage nonetheless. I hate Royal Politics. The competition and greed is flabbergasting and disgusting. I mean, my hands are not clean, in any way, but hurting innocent people repulses me and hurting innocent people to further your own agenda, well, that just makes me simply murderous." I tell him truthfully and he pulls me closer, wrapping an arm tightly around me. My hands rested on his chest while his arms were wrapped loosely around my waist and his lips pressed against my forehead, brushing gently as he spoke.

"I hate that too, I am extremely protective of my court. They are like my children even though they are grown men and women. My people know that they can come to me, know that I am not the legacy of a ruthless monster that my father left behind. Betrayal and dishonesty is not tolerated in myself, why would I allow it in the people that deal with the matters of my people?" His question was rhetorical.

"You sounded very much like a king right there." I murmur and he smiled softly against the skin of my forehead.

"What? No god title? Have I lost it already?" He jokes gently and I smile, eyes drooping.

"Definitely." I agree with an assured nod. His large frame shakes in amusement. He was so warm, so hard, yet so inviting. I snuggled closer.

"Elena." He says and I hum, already dozing off.

"You and me, we need to conceive a child and we need to consummate this marriage. It needs to happen soon, I am giving you time, but I cannot promise much." He confesses and I open my eyes.

"We can-." He cut me off.

"No, when I make love to you for the first time, you are going to need it. And you are going to want it without a probe from a sociopathic father or some type of duty." He said simply and then he pulled me against his chest and tucked us both under the covers, letting me lay on his chest.

"Sweet dreams, Elena." He whispers.

"Goodnight, Elijah." I whisper back. My eyes flutter and my last thought before I drift into the brink of unconsciousness, is a prayer to whatever god will listen.

 _Do not let me fall in love with him, I will not survive it._

•••

Elijah was good with people. That was something I noticed, nearly immediately. He could have a blushing woman laughing and relaxed within moments, along with a tense intimidated man. His outward appearance was a complete contrast to the pure kindness that emanated from the inside. We walked through the garden and I had questions about him, so I decided to just ask.

"What would you name our daughter or son, or both? Do you have names that intrigue you?" I ask, running my hand along the smooth surface of the stone wall we walked along.

"I like Christopher or James for a boy." He said, glancing down at me and I smile softly.

"And a girl?" I ask and he shrugs, licking his lips, I watch his tongue run along the full bottom lip that I could grow fascinated with if I wasn't careful.

"Charlotte. Anna. Rosaline." He answered and we continued in silence until he broke it again.

"And you, what are your preferred names?" He asked and I shrug.

"For a boy I like Tatum, Ryan, Jonathon, Christopher, and James." I say with an assured nod, his lips crack into that gorgeous grin.

"I rather enjoy the name Tatum, more than James." He says conversationally and I nod vigorously.

"Yes, definitely and Ryan doesn't seem very – you know, _royal_." I drawl and he laughs before nodding at me.

"Yes, Jonathon, Christopher, and Tatum. I like those. What about girls?" He asked and I shrugged both of my shoulders.

"Rosaline, definitely. Charlotte, that is negotiable, it is not the most fascinating name, though and I do not truly like Anna, beautiful name, but no." I chirp and he smiles softly.

"Are you going to give me your preferred names or are you just going to stand there and criticize my non-female brain?" He drawls and I turn, playfully punching his bicep, he does not falter or even blink. Damn him.

"Isabella. Rosaline. Camille. Trinity. Grace. Lillian. Honestly, stop me at any time." I joke and he stops moving us toward a bench. He sat down and crossed his ankles in front of him, staring at the ground, while rubbing his hands together.

"You told me you wanted a lot of kids. Four of them. Is that your set number?" He asked and I stared at him, before shaking my head.

"I want an equal number of boys and girls. It does not usually work out like that, but I love kids, so I want as many as my body can handle." I say and he nods simply.

"Yes, but you must understand that sometimes having so many children is a danger to your health and you're a Queen now, your health is my problem just as much as it is yours. So if you are truly adamant about many children then we need to discuss details with a doctor and make sure that you keep a steady diet and perfect health." He said and I rolled my eyes.

"Elijah, I am not pregnant. We have not even _consummated our marriage_." I hiss quietly, glancing around frantically. He didn't even blink.

"Anyway, I don't think we need to truly worry about it yet, but thank you, my king, for being so very worried." I say kissing his cheek, my other hand cupping his other cheek. I go to pull back, but his hands rise, one catching my forearm and the other cupping my cheek. I wet my lips out of habit and he moves, just as his lips brushed mine. A soft clearing of the throat cut us off and we turned. Damon stood there. Gaze averted, a good fifteen feet away. He looked – furious.

"Congratulations, your majesties." He says and I nearly cringe at the flat tone of his voice. Elijah stood, his body tall and strong as he blocked me from view.

"May I help you?" He asked and I stand.

"No, majesty, my business is with your queen. Elena." Damon did not wait for my response, he just turned and walked to the end of the garden, stalling and waiting for me to join him. I went to follow, but Elijah gripped my forearm.

"A queen is not summoned." He said and I stared up at him, frowning slightly.

"He is my friend and we have business. He is upset, I must go." I say and Elijah cocks an eyebrow.

"Why is that?" He asks and I shrug.

"He believes that he is in love with me, but he is not. I am not really his type, he just does not know it yet." I pull my forearm away and walk toward Damon. He stares at me and then laughs while I stand in front of him. Unaffected.

"I leave for a month, not even, and I come back to find you Queen of bloody fucking England." His voice was a near yell and I had to take a step forward and shush him, otherwise Elijah will come over and I did not want to see what he was capable of.

"Yes, I am the Queen of England, how are you Damon?" I ask and he snorts. Before grabbing something and flinging it at me. I caught it swiftly and held it up. A ring with the initials HM. I lick my lips and glance up.

"Found him in a brothel in Paris. He was drunk and boasting about how he got a princess to fuck him with her whorish mouth. His words, not mine." Damon said calmly, staring down at me with cold blue eyes.

"What did you do?" I ask and he shrugs.

"I beat him within an inch of his life and then I stabbed him and left him for dead. I do not technically know if he died or if he got help, but I do know that he will never do to another female what he did to Jenna." Damon swallowed and then looked away. I shifted my weight.

"Damon-." I wasn't able to finish.

"I love you." He says and I suck, in a sharp breath before taking a step back. He doesn't follow me. We have a king and most likely a few guards standing watch behind us. He just stares at me.

"I was too late." He says and I take a step forward freezing my outstretched hand.

"Damon." I breathe and then I shut my eyes tightly, dropping my hand.

"I am so, so sorry. I led you on. I have absolutely no excuses for it and I am sorry. Honestly." I promise and he nods.

"You do not love me." He says and I stare at him.

"Do not feel bad. I do not love anyone." I whisper and his lips twitch.

"You love him." He says and I snort.

"Please." I say and he shakes his head.

"No, you do. You look at him like you are intrigued to know more and knowledge creates love. If you do not now, you will and I am happy for you Elena. I hope he gives you the life I wanted to give you. The one you deserve." He says, bending forward and placing a gentle kiss to my cheek. I could hear the rattling of armor behind us and he smirks, lingering a little too long before pulling back. He winked and turned, leisurely walking from the garden, whistling. Smug bastard.

I turn and no doubt there are guards. My eyes narrowed, "Dismissed." I hiss and they immediately scatter while Elijah stares at me.

"Do you love him?" He asked and I cocked an eyebrow.

"What business is it of yours?" I knew the answer to my own question before I even asked.

"You are my wife, my queen, it is excruciatingly my business." He snarls. I scoff.

"I told you that he loved me and I also told you that I was not his type. I have never loved him, and I don't right now. Has there been anything? Yes, we nearly had sex the night before you came, but Matt being the overprotective brother he is, stepped in and stopped it." I say, something flashed in Elijah's eyes before he guarded it.

"You trust him." He said and even though it wasn't a question, I nodded.

"You would have had sex with him and it must have been out in the open for your brother to conveniently interrupt. You trust him, yet you cannot trust me." He says and suddenly my hand was launching out. I slapped him so hard that I felt the sharp pain travel up the length of my arm. His face reddened on impact and his head jerked to the side. He stumbled and I felt a hell of a lot of satisfaction from that.

"First of all you prick. Damon has killed for me and I have known him for nearly seven years. I have known you for all of barely a month and the length of our relationship is a conversation where I attacked you verbally and physically and then you manage to cut down my entire defenses and offer me a _formal fucking pardon_. So you earned my respect, majesty, not my trust. No one truly has my trust, and if Damon truly had my trust then I would have let him fuck me against the stable doors." I snap at him and he turns with such speed that I nearly missed the fist, colliding with stone. I stumbled back, shocked.

He spun around and raked his fingers through his hair, "What about the men you had sex with?" He asked and I flush.

"I kind of lied about that, it was only one man and he was barely a man at nineteen. Inexperienced and I was so drunk that I don't even remember it. I told you it was multiple men as an excuse to get out of your offer of pardon. Elijah, a peck on the cheek is not cheating and technically, we are not even officially married yet." I spin on my heel and walk out of the garden. He infuriates me and arouses me at the same time. Now that is the definition of insanity.


End file.
